I sprawled upon the pink bedspread the following day, reading one of the many unwanted books stashed away in the bookshelf in my room. I had never been an avid reader, but this novel was a particularly gory horror story, so I had decided to make an acceptation. I was just getting up to the best part, when I heard the shouting outside in the hall.

"I can't keep doing this for you, Trunks!" Bulma cried shrilly. "The board are going to need that presentation soon, and don't expect me to cover for you again! If you can't meet due dates, then you aren't suitable to be an employee of my company."

"Well maybe I don't want to be an employee of your company!" Trunks shouted back. It was odd to hear him shout…his voice was always so soft…

"Of course you do, son. It's in your blood!" Bulma replied. "You have so much potential, and I'd hate to see it all go to waste. You used to be so good at your job. But lately I think you've just been…losing interest."

"I never had any interest in the first place." He shot back darkly.

"Yes you did. Don't you remember how you used to come and watch me work when you were a child?"

"Only because you made me."

"No I didn't."

"Don't try to tell me what I'm interested in, and what I'm not interested in, Mother."

"Oh Trunks, you did so well in the HSC! You made your grandfather and I so very proud, especially when we were privileged to offer you a place in charge of the development section of our company. Don't you understand, son? The future of Capsule corp. rests in your hands! When I'm gone, who's going to manage it if you don't? Not your sister, that's for sure. Sure, she got better grades than you. But she's too wrapped up in all that charity work she does…"

"Oh sure, so it's alright for Bra to take on a different career path and do what she wants to do. But what about me? What about what I want to do?"

"Well, what do you want to do?"

There was silence, and I sat still on the bed, not daring to breathe lest I miss a word. I could almost feel the embarrassment dwelling within Trunks through the door. I clutched my book stiffly, not making a sound…waiting for a reply.

"Nothing." He finally said, his voice emotionless, and back to it's normal level. I heard his footsteps trailing away on the tiled floor, and Bulma's heading in the opposite direction before I let myself exhale a sigh.

I couldn't help but feel it was my fault. If I hadn't come to Trunks' office the previous afternoon, then he would have been able to complete the report he was working on in time for his presentation. Now he was in danger of losing his job, and it was all because of me. Not only that, but his own mother was angry at him for not living out a dream he never had. Couldn't she see that he didn't want to own Capsule corp.? I punched a pink pillow in frustration, then got up and stormed out of my room in a rage with the intentions of finding Trunks and at least apologizing to him.

I began to take the now familiar route to his office, thinking that would be most likely place he'd be at this hour. I'd only reached the entrance to Capsule corp., and what was the end of the Briefs residence when I barged into Bulma, dressed in a tight fitting magenta suede suit and her usual pair of clacky black high heels, teal hair falling into her wrinkled face.

"Where do you think you're going?" She asked me bitterly, teal eyes still burning with rage. I wasn't sure if she was angry with me, or with her son. Either way, I was wise enough to see that I needed to ensure ultimate politeness if I was ever going to be able to speak with Trunks.

"I just need to speak with Trunks for a moment." I replied smoothly.

"Not you're not." She said fiercely, placing a pair of French manicured hands on her large hips. "You are not to come into the working part of Capsule corp. during your stay here, because it is a distraction to the workers."

"But I need to see Trunks. I have to apologize." I protested, letting my eyes fall from her gaze to her black stockings. "You see, it's my fault that he didn't have his report ready for the presentation today. I barged in on him when he was working, and then he took me out to lunch. If it wasn't for me, he would have finished it."

"Well," Bulma replied after she'd given time to let my words sink in. I couldn't tell if she was angry with me or not, and I didn't dare look up to read the expression in her face. "I expect you've learnt your lesson. I don't want you bothering Trunks, or anyone else during work hours, do you understand? Trunks is struggling to maintain his job at the moment, and it's putting a lot of stress on him, coupled with having to keep up with his training. The last thing he needs is a little girl bothering him during the day."

I lifted my head, and saw the depression and rage in my pasty face reflected in the brass buttons on Bulma's suit, and in her large, gold hoop earrings. She must of seen it too, for her face softened up a little.

"I'm sorry Pan, dear. I know this is a difficult time for you, and I don't mean to be so cruel. But it's a difficult time for Trunks too, and he's under a lot of pressure. I think it would be best if you left him alone while at work."

I merely nodded, then rounded on my heel and marched away from her, heading in no apparent direction and letting my rage push me onward. Not only was I angry that I did not have the opportunity to apologize to Trunks, but I had a feeling that it was Bulma who was putting him under stress, and not himself or me. Plus, I hated being called a 'little girl', especially when I clearly was no longer a child.

I continued walking briskly along the corridors, not going anywhere in particular until I bumped into something solid and stumbled back in surprise, blinking back from behind my fringe to see a stern figure in front of me.

"What the hell is your problem?" Vegeta demanded, snarling at me and crossing his sweaty arms in front of his black training outfit.

"It was your fault!" I shot back, forgetting the warnings I had received from my parents before arrival here. They had made me promised never to pick a fight with Vegeta.

"No it wasn't, you stupid girl! You need to watch where you're going in future!" His coal black eyes darkened from beneath thick, black eyebrows.

"Don't you dare call me a stupid girl!" I shouted, releasing my anger through my words. I wasn't particularly angry with Vegeta, but this was helping me to clear my head a little. "If you'd been watching out for me, then you wouldn't have banged into me, you asshole."

"What did you call me?" He scathed. "Go on, say that again, I dare you."

"I called you an asshole, or are you so deaf that you couldn't hear, old man?"

"Old man!? What the…?" He trailed away, allowing his trademark smirk to creep across his face. "Heh…perhaps there is a little Sayian blood left in you after all, child."

"I'm no child, you stupid tart! How dare you accuse me of not being a Sayian, when it runs through my veins as much as it runs through yours. Just because I'm only a quarter Sayian, and you're a full blooded one, doesn't mean you're any stronger than I am, jerk!"

"Then why don't you prove it to me in a battle?" He demanded. "Back in my gravity room, right now. If you're game."

"Of course I am." I said, with a brief glance down at my current attire. I didn't think my tight fitting black jeans and blood red tank top were suitable for such an occasion. "As long as you have something I can change into."

"There's some old clothes that belonged to Trunks." Vegeta said with a shrug. "If you don't mind wearing boy's clothes, little girl."

"I told you to stop calling me that! I'm no little girl, and I'm about to prove it to you."

He smirked, leading the way back into his gravity room, with me at his heels. I couldn't help but allow myself a small smirk too.

So much for my good manners…

(o)

I gazed down at my new outfit as I emerged from the changing room outside Vegeta's gravity room. It was emerald green, tied with an orange sash, and with orange wristbands on either wrist. Vegeta had also supplied me with a pair of matching weighted training boots, which I had refused to wear since they were far too big for me, although I hoped Vegeta wouldn't think me a weakling for not wearing them. Sure enough, he was smirking again when I reentered the white tiled dome he called his gravity room.

"What?" I asked rudely.

"Those clothes were the same worn by Trunks when he was twelve." He laughed devilishly. "You really are small for your age, aren't you?"

"Pipe down, beef head." I scowled, still overwhelmed by the fact that these were the same clothes worn by Trunks at one stage. I could tell they'd belonged to him the moment I'd put them on…they smelt just like he did….a soft scent.

"How much gravity do you want?" He asked me, approaching the large consol in the center of the room.

"One hundred times earth sounds good." I said casually.

"Are you sure you can handle it?" He said jokingly, already programming the settings.

"Of course I can. I'm Goku's granddaughter." I answered stiffly. "And if I win this fight, you have to stop calling me 'little' forever."

"Unfortunately for you, that's not going to happen, granddaughter of Kakkarot. Because I'm going to win." He said proudly

"I wouldn't bet on that. But if you think it's going to make you feel better, than you can say it all you want." I grinned. "My family has been doing battle with yours for generations, and we always come out on top."

"Oh, so this is about family honor now, is it?" Vegeta laughed. "Too bad then, because it means that when I beat you, you'll have to live with letting Kakkarot down."

There was no more time to speak, as we launched into battle. I now fully understood what my parents meant when they warned me not to get on his bad side, as Vegeta was furiously strong, almost robotic, with his own unique techniques and styles that I had never encountered before. Each punch spoke of strength and experience, and each attack was fired with incredible force. Although I did put up a good fight, countering and blocking all his attacks, sneaking in a few whenever I could. Eventually, all my energy was drained from me, and I collapsed to the floor with exhaustion, becoming victim to the high gravity.

"Damn, you're good." I admitted gruelingly, panting on the white tiled floor as he landed beside me, programming the consol so that gravity returned to normal.

"Of course, child." He smirked. "I am the best."

"Oh don't flatter yourself." I said bitterly, resenting losing battle to him. It had made him far too cocky. "It was a one time thing. Next time, I'm going to defeat you, and deflate that big ego of yours while I'm at it."

"If there will be a next time. I'm not sure if I want to fight you again. You're far too easy to defeat, just like your grandfather."

"Come on, don't deny that you didn't enjoy sparring with me today." I shot back. "And not another bad word against my family, or I'll get my grandfather to come over here and kick your ass."

"I'd like to see him try." He said with a smirk, stretching his arms upwards to the sky.

"Yuk, you stink. Take a shower, will you?" I waved a hand mockfully in front of my face.

"You know." Vegeta mused. "You are unlike any other child I think I've ever met before. Nothing like my daughter."

"Thank god for that." I pulled a face at the very idea of being his relative. "Honestly, I don't know how Trunks can live with being your son."

"Ah yes, him." Vegeta spat. "He's become soft in such a time of peace, and is falling behind in his training dramatically."

"That's not his fault." I defended. "It's yours, and Bulma's. You work him like a dog, making him do things he doesn't want to do. He only does it to make you happy."

"Don't tell me that you're about to turn soft too."

"No, of course not. Just quit pestering Trunks, ok?"

"Would you be proud of a son who was lazy, and didn't know the difference between a punch and a kick?"

"No."

"Exactly."

"But Trunks is strong. He just doesn't want to be a fighter. Can't you be proud of him for what he is?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm a Sayian." He said with a tinge of pride. "And he is too. It's a disgrace to our kind. Anyway, if you're going to point the finger at anyone, it's the woman. She's the one who forces him into that job of his."

"It's your fault too." I persisted. "God, can't you just give him a brake."

"I'm afraid this is an argument neither of us can win."

"Yes it is. I just won because you didn't come up with a comeback."

"You know," He mused, changing the topic completely. "It certainly has been a while since I've fought another female Sayian. And I must admit, your father has trained you sufficiently. I wouldn't mind defeating you again sometime, girl."

"Quit calling me that!" I shouted, getting up and heading towards the door.

"Child." He muttered, just loud enough for me to hear as I left.

"Jerk." I muttered back.

"Girl."

"Asshole."

"Half-breed."

"Tart."

I think this was the day my strange and unique, father-daughter type bond with Vegeta truly began.